


liquid courage can only take you so far

by timber (calculus)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Lapdance, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Linear Narrative, Oral Sex, Pining, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-02 23:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/timber
Summary: It seems like every time Wonwoo gets drunk, there's Soonyoung hanging around. He probably should have better self-control than this.Or, five drunken kisses and one when they're both sober.





	1. iv. desperation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owl/gifts).



> this is beyond fucking late i really hope u can forgive me T_T__T but happy birthday kait i hope u had a blast on ur birthday n !!! congratulations on entering the adults-only club HAHAHA u can never leave now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's like everything builds and builds, but eventually, that bubble's gotta burst some way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is presented nonlinearly! each chapter will jump to or from specific times; check the number in the chapter title for chronology!

They kiss fiercely, knocking shoulders against drywall and elbows against the shelves of the cramped supply closet, but the pain is secondary to the burning in their lungs and the hot electricity running down their spines. The loud bass of the house party mix vibrates in the confines of the room, thrumming almost in sync to their heart beats, but it’s white noise to the buzzing that Wonwoo hears in his own head and the resounding slap of his heart against his ribcage.

It’s blistering, how Soonyoung’s hands run over his frame, frantic, pulling him in closer and closer like he can sink into Wonwoo’s skin if he just gets close enough. The sharp taste of vodka and soju is strong in his mouth, flavoring every swipe of of tongue, but Wonwoo only wants more, eager to taste the whole of him. It’s an acidic sweetness, one that stings the more he reaches, but it’s Soonyoung and his soft lips on him.

There’s no deterrent strong enough in the world to keep him away.

Soonyoung moans sweetly, biting his mouth like it’s a race to the finish line, but Wonwoo doesn’t want it to end like this. Not when there’s so much land left to explore, so much skin left untouched. He heaves and slams Soonyoung against the wall, swallowing the yelps escaping a startled Soonyoung, and drags their hips together, grinding for that delicious friction. Soonyoung jerks, pulling away with a groan to knock his head against the wall, and Wonwoo follows after, ducking his head to lave at the curve of his jaw.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, please,” Soonyoung gasps, breathy and heady—music to Wonwoo’s ears. “Please, please, please—”

“What do you want, Soon-ah, tell me what you want,” Wonwoo murmurs low, sucking wet kisses down the line of Soonyoung’s throat and edging salty skin with the tips of his canines. Soonyoung just moans and claws at Wonwoo’s back, dragging in his thigh to ride against. Wonwoo obligingly moves his leg, shifts so that Soonyoung has something sturdy to grind on, and slips hot fingers under the mess of Soonyoung’s button-down.

“I want—oh god, please—I want you, I just want you, please,” Soonyoung pleads, blunt fingertips digging into his shoulder blades, and Wonwoo can’t help the flip of his heart and the sudden sink of his stomach because it’s not him Soonyoung wants. It’s just the alcohol making the bad choices for him.

But, he wants this so much, Wonwoo—he wants Soonyoung in any way he can possibly get, and maybe it’s the alcohol burning ablaze in his veins, but Wonwoo can’t seem to stop.

“You have me, you always have me,” he mutters, half-hoping Soonyoung hears him and half-praying that he doesn’t remember this in the morning. He feels Soonyoung gasp against him, wet and broken, and Wonwoo closes his eyes before he lets that go to his head even more.

“Give me this, then, give me this,” Soonyoung whines, fumbling, hands dragging to Wonwoo’s belt and the edge of his zipper, and Wonwoo just goes.

He lets Soonyoung strip off his belt, lets him shakily unzip his jeans and slip his warm hand inside like it’s meant to be there all along. He helps Soonyong unbuckle his own belt and shimmy down his jeans, and then grasps the both of them in hand to jerk. Soonyoung shudders under him, moans loud and wanton as Wonwoo’s calloused grip slides down his cock, and it’s everything Wonwoo wants to hear forever.

“Love it when you touch me, love how big your hands are,” Soonyoung slurs, and Wonwoo whimpers himself, thrusts into his own grip and jacks them faster. Soonyoung laughs, punch-drunk and delirious, and shifts his hand to help, occasionally tugging at Wonwoo’s balls just to watch him shake.

“I need—I need you—” Wonwoo tries, breath heavy, and Soonyoung just grips him by the back of his head and pushes him down for a fierce kiss.

It’s hard to breathe, sharing air between them and kissing Soonyoung’s lips until they feel hot and swollen against his own, and Wonwoo pulls away to gulp for air for only seconds before sucking Soonyoung’s tongue back into his mouth. Soonyoung pants into his mouth, and fucks into his grip so dirty Wonwoo wishes they were in a room with a bed so he could flip him onto a mattress and grind against his cock until they come. He groans instead, lets Soonyoung take control of the pace, lets him move his hand faster and faster.

“ _Yeah_ , yeah, come on Wonwoo, want you to come for me like this,” Soonyoung says against his lips. He tightens his grip and corkscrews his hand upward, spreading precome over the tops of their heads and flicking his thumb just right.

“Want— _oh fuck_ —come with me, Soon-ah,” Wonwoo pants, and he feels him grin, stretched slow and breaking into a gasping laugh, as Soonyoung jacks them harder.

He feels his balls tighten, can feel Soonyoung tensing under his hands, and Wonwoo bites down on the curve of Soonyoung’s jaw as he spills over. Soonyoung follows right after, coming with his own sort of breathless giggling, and Wonwoo nudges him into a kiss, lets Soonyoung filter in the sound of euphoria into him.

Someone bangs angrily against the door at that point, and they jump, like startled cats, turning their heads to the entrance as one. Wonwoo strains his ears for the earlier music, but it’s still going strong, a rhythmic beat and heavy synth pounding in the background, so at least they haven’t spent too much time inside.

“Whoever the fuck is in here better fucking clear out in the next five minutes, or I’m dragging you assholes to campus security,” shouts the person on the other side. Clearly, they disagree. “And fucking clean up your goddamn mess; if I fucking even see the smallest bit of jizz on my goddamn shelves, I will find you sicko motherfuckers and make you lick it off.”

Soonyoung claps a hand to his mouth to hold back a snort, eyes bright and fuzzy, and Wonwoo shushes him. They clean up quickly, fumbling and shushing each other whenever the giggles start breaking out, and just before they stumble out the door, Wonwoo pulls Soonyoung flush against him.

“What’s up, tiger, ready for round two already?” Soonyoung asks, slick smile on swollen lips and coy, trailing fingers playfully up his shoulder. The same fingers Wonwoo had just sucked clean not a minute before while Soonyoung watched him with hooded eyes, but Wonwoo tries his best to ignore that, tries to grasp his wandering thoughts.

“Shush, we’ll get in trouble again,” Wonwoo brushes off, but he can’t help his own hands, tightening around Soonyoung’s waist. “No, I wanna talk after. Uh, in the morning.”

Soonyoung blinks, and tilts his head. “What about?”

“This, I want to talk about _this_ ,” Wonwoo blurts out, incredulous and unsteady on his feet.

He nods at the little space between them, trying to encompass the situation with a jerk of his chin, and misses the way Soonyoung’s face cloud and shutter. Wonwoo drops his eyes to his hands, how he clings to Soonyoung like something about to be taken away from his grasp, and swallows unevenly. The buzz from his orgasm is already gone, replaced with the wobbliness in his gut and the guilty feeling that he really shouldn’t have let this go so far.

“Okay, Wonwoo-ah, we can chat,” Soonyoung says sunnily, and Wonwoo looks back up. The ready compliance is not expected, but welcome, and Wonwoo tries for a smile.

“I’ll take you out to your favorite yukgaejang place, okay?”

Soonyoung snorts, and pinches him before reaching over and opening them to the rest of the world again, sensory overload sucking them back into the fray. Wonwoo follows, but Soonyoung’s too fast, slips away too easily between blinks.

He thinks, with a sinking feeling, that maybe that wasn’t the best way to start the conversation. And when he gets an apologetic text the next morning canceling their plans, and no sign of Soonyoung for the next month, Wonwoo thinks, _well, fuck._


	2. ii. curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what was that saying? curiosity caught the cat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> name of the game is: Suspend That Disbelief

Club-hopping is not Wonwoo’s fond idea of a great time. The loud music, the crowds of people gathered around each location, the flashing neon lights, and the hounding from attendants standing outside each entrance trying to get people to come in—everything adds up to a giant headache for him, and very little can convince to come out.

Still, it’s the end of midterms, and Seokmin’s promised them all a great deal at a hip-hop club in Garosu-gil, and Soonyoung’s sweetened the pot with hot wings if Wonwoo manages to hit three clubs with them. Wonwoo is many things, but he is still just a university student, and not much else can get him running than the promise of free food and cheap deals.

He sits in a booth, squished between two heavyweights: a boisterous Seungkwan and Seungcheol, whose excitement feeds on the antics of everyone else, and Wonwoo gives it another hour before his quota for all this energy is up. He jiggles his leg, watches as Seokmin leads everyone into a line of shots, Mingyu puckering his face especially at the taste of tequila and Jihoon coolly knocking back his glass like water, and downs his own glass without fanfare. The taste of bottom-shelf tequila is _rough_ , and Wonwoo eagerly shoves a lime wedge in his mouth to chase away the sharp bitterness.

Junhui waits until everyone’s slammed down their glasses and then nudges Jeonghan with a grin. Jeonghan makes a noise, and everyone looks at them, curious and open. Wonwoo and Jihoon watch with more reservation, sharing resigned glances.

“Alright, let’s play a game, guys, kick off the night with a bang,” Jeonghan shouts, barely audible with the aggressive drumline playing overhead. Soonyoung leans forward, gamely, and presses his thumb and forefinger to his chin in a checkmark gesture.

“I’m listening, hyung, hit us,” he says, excited and carefree. Seokmin elbows him with a exclamation.

“Hey, don’t go speaking for the rest of us just yet! What if I wanna just sit back and chill this time?” he says, but his easy grin takes the sting away. Minghao, between Junhui and Mingyu, steeples his fingers and nods.

“I’m game,” he says, even and calm, and Jeonghan flashes him a bright smile and a heart gesture with his arms.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite dongsaeng of the bunch, Haohao,” he calls out, ignoring Seokmin and Soonyoung’s protests. “Anyway, you have no choice, it’s time to _play_.”

Wonwoo laughs with the rest of them, and chips in for the next round of soju and beer as they set up for a round of Titanic. The first loser is Seungcheol, who pouts and cries foul play when everyone else just pours tiny amounts into the floating shot glass until it comes to Wonwoo’s turn, who’s right next to him and pours just enough to ensure that Seungcheol would have to pour and drink. But he drinks the mixture gamely, flipping everyone else off with a good-natured smile.

The next one to lose is Junhui, whose hand shook too much and overpoured, and he drinks with such ease that they decide as a group to add consequences to the game. Now, every loser must perform an action for the rest of the group, something incredulous and suitably curdling enough for everyone to feel the tension as each person pours down the shot glass. Jihoon is the first to fall, squeezing his eyes shut to steel himself under the jeers around the table before marching up to the dj-ing table and talking his way onto the turntables. They watch with awe as Jihoon spins, easily remixing two of the latest Sik-K releases for a shoulder-grooving jam, and stand with applause when it’s finished.

Jihoon weathers it with modest nods and a pleased smile, and they turn away to give him privacy when Junhui hops out of the booth and drags him away. Jisoo is the next one, accepting defeat with a shrug, but Seungcheol black-knights for him, taking the drink and the punishment. He gets up and croons “You Reflected in a Smile” for them, getting everyone to clap in tune with him despite the incongruous tropical house in the background.

Soonyoung gets the last one, and puts a good show of wailing as the shot glass sinks into the beer. They laugh, but deciding punishment falls on the last loser, Seungcheol, who taps his chin in contemplation.

“Just have Soonyoung-hyung do one of his routines on the dance floor or challenge someone to a dance-off,” Mingyu offers, but Seungkwan waves that aside.

“Come on, we know Soonyoung-hyung’d smoke whoever’s out there,” Soonyoung blushes, but lets Seungkwan continue, “What we need is something _new_ for hyung. He’s too easy-going for most things.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth, but Minghao beats him to the chase, leaning in with a smug smile. “He should give someone a lap dance.”

Wonwoo chokes, half-inhaling the sip of beer he’d been drinking, but it’s ignored for Soonyoung sputtering and shooting to his feet. “What the hell! That’s too much, yah, what the fuck!”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Jeonghan cuts in, glittering eyes narrowing on Soonyoung’s maroon face.

“W-what—hyung, come on, you can’t be serious,” Soonyoung whines, but Jeonghan just smiles and reaches over to pat Seungcheol on the shoulder. “ _Come on_ , who would I even give a lap dance to! I’m not going up to some stranger—that’s harassment!”

Minghao looks among them, assessing, and Wonwoo feels like his insides are on fire when the gaze falls on him and _doesn’t move away._ The rest of them follow, eyes moving to his grimacing face, and Wonwoo holds up his hands to ward them off.

“You can’t be serious,” he stammers, echoing Soonyoung’s earlier protest. “What about _my_ consent in this?”

“₩60,000 and I’ll lend you my notes for Kang-gyosunim’s fuck-hard microec final.”

Shit. Wonwoo bites his lip, which Soonyoung sees and squawks at, waving his hands about.

“Are you seriously selling me out for a few bills and Minghao’s lecture notes? What the actual _fuck_ , Wonwoo, I thought we were _friends_!” Soonyoung shouts, and it hits him in the gut.

Because he hasn’t thought of Soonyoung as a friend for a while now, not since Christmas last year and the six hours of seething jealousy Wonwoo’d endured watching Soonyoung cuddle with someone who wasn’t him. He’s self-aware enough to recognize this is probably going to hurt their relationship, but the thought of Soonyoung, lithe and strong, grinding a circle into his lap is hard to shake.

And, also because Kang-gyosunim is actually their economics department’s worst nightmare, and having even the smallest upper-hand in that shit-awful class would be godsend.

He hesitates a moment longer, and Minghao knows it, swooping in for the kill. “You can have Jihoon-hyung’s extra mattress,” he says, because everyone knows about Wonwoo’s shitty apartment and furnishings that probably came from the end of World War II, ratty as fuck—and Wonwoo is _sold_.

“I’m in.”

“I’m not? _What the fuck_ —” Minghao pulls him over, harshly whispers to a struggling Soonyoung until his mouth slackens. “Fuck. _Fuck._ Okay, fine, you win! Let’s get this over with.”

Jisoo is nice enough, arguing for them to at least have a room to themselves with Minghao filming for video proof, and they walk to a back-room with proverbial tails between their legs, bright red and not looking at each other whatsoever.

Minghao is the one to break the awkward silence, rolling his eyes and kicking them lightly at the heels to move onto the spare couch by the wall. Soonyoung whines and covers his face, but Wonwoo steels himself with a shaky sigh and sits down with little grace. Soonyoung peeks at him through the gaps of his fingers, and Wonwoo pulls a smile, a baring of teeth than any true emotion, but it’s enough to get him moving.

“Do you guys want some mood music, help set the scene?” Minghao asks, off by the other side of the room, plopped in a chair that’s more stuffing than furniture at his point. Soonyoung whines even louder, digging his palms into his face, but the burning red of his ears is unmistakable.

“Um, I’m, uh, fine, with just silence,” Wonwoo offers, wincing as the words come out of his mouth. Soonyoung drops his hands to look at him, incredulous, and Wonwoo shrugs back, defensive.

“You want me to give you a _lap dance_ in pure silence?” Soonyoung spits out, bright crimson and scathing. He fumbles out his phone, and thumbs a few buttons before a slow R &B song whistles out, breaking the static of the room. He tosses it over to Minghao with a glare to not drop it.

Then, he drops his head and takes a deep breath.

Wonwoo swallows, heart kicked up to an unnecessary velocity, ferociously stuttering and starting again when Soonyoung relaxes and _moves_. Everything fades away, but the sight of Soonyoung, liquid and sensual, hips swaying sinuous and fluid, arms sliding down his body. He watches greedily as Soonyoung walks closer and closer, dropping low and arching his back into his direction, the swell of his ass so prominent by the opportunely tight skinnies he’d chosen to wear tonight.

Then, Soonyoung fucking straddles him, and Wonwoo’s mind short-circuits. He thinks his hands are maybe clawing out cushion stuffing from how hard they grip the couch seat, but nothing is certain. All he knows is Soonyoung’s circling his hips over his lap, and the hot rush of blood in his ears drowning out everything but his own harsh breathing. Wonwoo shudders as Soonyoung goes lower and lower, but never quite touching him, and he’s deathly aware of how hard he’s gotten, but maybe Soonyoung hasn’t seen yet, maybe he _won’t_ catch it—

Soonyoung’s eyes drop down, as if guided by his thoughts, and the sink of Wonwoo’s stomach is nothing to the slow curl of Soonyoung’s lips, feral and _hot_. He slides hands up Wonwoo’s chest, flirtatious and branding, and grinds his hips in the air, dipping low every other second enough to run against Wonwoo’s own hard-on.

It’s torture.

Wonwoo doesn’t want it to stop.

Vaguely, he can hear Minghao shuffling to the door and calling out to them, “I’m gonna leave you guys, okay, have fun, don’t leave a mess, whatever,” and leaving the room, but neither of them pay him any attention. The music is still playing, but Soonyoung seems to have stopped moving, just barely grazing his ass against Wonwoo’s open lap.

“Um. You can, uh, you can stop now if you want,” Wonwoo says, voice cracking. He flushes, and stammers, wishing for a hole to eat him whole. Then, Soonyoung sits down fully on him, clasping thick thighs on either side of his legs, and Wonwoo feels the press of Soonyoung’s dick, just as hard and blood-hot, against his own. He sucks in a breath, has to clench his body so that he doesn’t thrust into Soonyoung like every cell screams at him to, but it’s fire that’s replaced his blood.

Soonyoung watches him, careful, and if Wonwoo hadn’t known the boy for so many years, he would be fooled by the bravado on his face; Soonyoung is just as nervous as he is, though. Wonwoo gulps, and can almost feel the trace of Soonyoung’s eyes as they follow his throat, and his hands hesitantly rise until they bracket Soonyoung’s hips.

“Okay?” he whispers, too mindful of his voice cracking again, and Soonyoung almost shivers in his grasp before he nods.

He circles his arms around Wonwoo’s neck and leans in until they’re breaths apart, puffs of hot air against each other’s lips. Wonwoo’s heart feels like it’s about to break his fucking ribcage, and it’s just barely enough to know that Soonyoung’s own feels like he’s the same, chest pressed against his despite the layers between them.

“Okay?” Soonyoung parrots back, eyes staring straight at Wonwoo like a challenge, and if this is to test his self-control, then Wonwoo will gladly fail. He closes the distance first, and Soonyoung lets out a noise, but it gets swallowed up in the kiss. They’re awkward at first, not quite angling right, and Wonwoo considers giving up when Soonyoung’s nose mashes into his face, but they shift, slow down, and then—

They don’t come out until maybe twenty minutes later, lips kiss-swollen and throbbing, hickeys hidden under Soonyoung’s fortunate collar and not-so hidden over Wonwoo’s prominent collarbones, but Soonyoung just grins at him, shy, and pulls Wonwoo back to their table.

It feels like Wonwoo’s being steadily lead to a cliff, but with each stolen glance he shares with Soonyoung, secretive and promising, he can’t quite feel the danger just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3kvOz0s3As) that seungcheol sings by shin seunghoon! [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFKSeaw56kc) is ailee's version from immortal song.
> 
> [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtX0WF7Fn_0) that soonyoung plays is 'if you let me' by sinead hartnett, more for the slow and synth beats, but if you wanna look into the lyrics lololol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> [also](https://twitter.com/princehoshipics/status/905135661115723776), if you wanna see some form of hip circling, courtesy of our very own kwon soonyoung..... :') thank u hoshi, doing god's work here....


	3. i. dawning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> every action has a reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> acire voice: Suspend That Disbelief Ayyyy

Christmas isn’t really a big thing, but the decorations come out anyway, lining the streets and stores—Hongdae especially feels like Wonwoo has stepped into a commercial wonderland with all the streamers and cut-outs of a white Santa Claus. What _is_ big is the rise of couples walking down those streets, clinging to each other and giggling while sharing hot drinks.

To be fair, Wonwoo had never been one who really cared about seeing public displays of affection. People are allowed to show how much they like each other however so they please, and that’s always been Wonwoo’s motto.

But.

Soonyoung sits on his new boyfriend’s lap with relish, a fellow member or whatever from his dance club activities who’d stuck his neck out a few weeks ago and publicly asked Soonyoung in front of his friends, and the sight does things to Wonwoo’s usually mild stomach.

The Christmas party that Jeonghan decided to throw to distract his underclassmen from the drudge of winter finals is loud and bustling, spanning all three of lounge rooms of his dorm floor that he RAs. Wonwoo is here on pain of death from both Jeonghan and Chan of all people, that sneak, and really the only incentive to stay is that he hasn’t eaten either lunch or dinner and the residential office is paying for everything.

Around the room are streamers and several pine trees put up, with flashy bulbs and ornaments, even a mini-Secret Santa event under one of the larger trees. Wonwoo himself brought a quickly-wrapped box-set of the latest Card Captor Sakura re-release because he knows Soonyoung had been eyeing the collection since the announcements for re-release and he managed to bribe Jeonghan to give him Soonyoung’s name for Secret Santa. He’d been rather excited to see the look on Soonyoung’s face when it came to unwrapping; it was Soonyoung’s favorite series as a boy, growing up with his older sister.

Of course, that’d been two weeks _before_ Soonyoung decided he wanted to stop being a sad single sack with Wonwoo during this time of year and got himself an actual significant other. Now, Wonwoo is half-tempted to pick back up his gift and re-tag it for someone else. Clearly, Soonyoung won’t have time to be reading any of this manhwa anyway, with that dumb tall smiley asshole taking up his time.

He feels the couch cushion dip, but ignores it to continue glaring rain clouds at Soonyoung across the room, cuddling his boyfriend.

“You know, you could just go and talk to him instead of sitting here,” says Junhui calmly, nudging a beer bottle into Wonwoo’s hands. He takes it automatically, and snaps eyes to Junhui for a second before looking back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, brusque and obvious, but he can’t find himself to care. Wonwoo takes a healthy swig.

Junhui hums, and leans back into the seat. “He did try asking you before if you wanted to go together.”

“I don’t know. What you’re talking. About.” Wonwoo grits his teeth, fingers tightening around the glass neck of his beer bottle.

“Never thought I’d see you so worked over him like this, but it does make sense,” Junhui murmurs, carrying on the conversation with himself despite Wonwoo’s chewed-off growl.

“Shut up, I’m _not_. I’m just—I’m just.” He flounders for a second, looking for a reason that doesn’t sound as petty in his own head. Junhui snorts and pats him on the back.

“Yeah, you are. It’s kind of refreshing,” Junhui says, grinning. “Wish Jihoon would get that way when I flirted with someone, but alas.”

“Please leave,” Wonwoo says, scowling, and now ripping the paper off his bottle with vengeance.

“Mm, how about I give you a little push?” Junhui says with a wink, and Wonwoo rears back a little, a sudden foreboding ringing its warning bells. Junhui pats him again and gets up. “My early Christmas present to you, shall we say?”

“...You spent all your free cash on Jihoon’s gift, didn’t you,” Wonwoo deadpans.

“That too, but I’m also in the giving spirit tonight,” Junhui waves aside. He wags an index finger at Wonwoo. “You better come when I give you the signal.”

“What signal—”

Junhui runs off before Wonwoo finishes, and he sighs, dropping his head into an open palm. Knowing Junhui’s idea of surprises, Wonwoo will probably come out of tonight with a bruised ego, at minimum. He looks at his beer bottle.

Might as well.

Wonwoo spends the next two hours by the drinks table, haunting the end corner with a growing pile of empty bottles. The bitter taste of hops is a welcome one, given how much sourness he’s been feeling, but he still grimaces chugging down another beer. This isn’t really how he’d pictured spending his Friday night, least of drowning his feelings in shitty alcohol and watching everyone else have the time of their lives.

Someone bumps into him, and Wonwoo sloshes himself slightly, unsteady on his feet. He looks at the culprit, a sheepish Chan, and sighs.

“I hope you’re having fun, you _illegal minor_ ,” he says, exhausted.

“I can’t wait until I graduate and get to go to all these parties all the time,” Chan says, starry-eyed. Wonwoo gives him a look.

“Does your mom know where you are?” he asks, and Chan just shrugs with an easy grin.

“Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll be gone after the gift-giving. I promise.” He holds a solemn hand to his chest, a wheedling smile on his face, and Wonwoo just sighs again, resigned.

“Go somewhere that doesn’t have alcohol within three meters of you—better yet, go sit next to Jisoo-hyung and don’t touch anything anyone gives you.”

“You’re not the boss of me, hyung,” Chan sings, but puts his hands out immediately when Wonwoo growls. “Okay, okay, I won’t, I won’t. Hyung, who peed in your cereal today?”

“ _No one_ , please, just—go,” Wonwoo says. Chan furrows his brows, and looks around.

“Where’s Soonyoung-hyung? I thought you guys were—” He cuts himself off at the plaintive look on Wonwoo’s face. “Ah. That’s it.”

Wonwoo doesn’t bother responding, just chugs the rest of his beer and sets the bottle down with a clunk on the table next to the others. Chan watches him, contemplative, and Wonwoo doesn’t give in to the urge to curl in on himself from the scrutiny. It’s not a problem. It’s not.

“I like you better when you’re with him,” Chan says softly, and Wonwoo pretends not to hear.

(He does too. He likes everything better when he’s with Soonyoung. That’s the problem, isn’t it?)

“Hyung—”

Junhui marches in with a clap, eye smile in full force, and throws arms over the both of them, startling Chan from his words. “Alright, friends, it’s time to get the show on the road.”

“What?”

“Fuck off.”

“Aww, Wonwoo-ssi, so cold to me as always,” Junhui croons, chucking his chin despite Wonwoo’s attempts to pull away. He winks at a bemused Chan, and starts walking them over to the corner where a circle beings to form, curious party-goers and friends alike crowding around a crouched Jeonghan, fiddling with something on a stick.

“What’s going, hyung?” Chan asks. Junhui taps a finger to his lips with a grin, and Wonwoo eyes them both with suspicion.

“A last-minute game,” is all Junhui allows, twinkling eyes, and Wonwoo scowls. As they close in on the circle, Jeonghan tosses back his hair and stands up, propping a stick with a dangling sprig of leaves over his shoulders.

Wonwoo feels a foreboding chill prick his spine. That’s… probably not what he—

“Mistletoe!” crows Jeonghan to his kids, proud and merry, and Wonwoo closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Goddamnit_ , Wen Junhui.

“This… doesn’t seem particularly safe, hyung,” one of the freshmen point out, uncertain, but Jeonghan dismisses it readily.

“Alright, kids, come sit down in a circle for your ol’ RA, come on, let’s go buds,” he says, gesturing for everyone to space out and sit. Wonwoo makes to do so, but Junhui suddenly pushes him, a well-timed throw of his arm that has an already-tipsy Wonwoo easily flying back into bodies.

“I’m _disowning_ you as a friend,” Wonwoo spits out, amidst the startled yelps and Junhui’s giggling. His limbs are jelly, wobbly with all the alcohol in his bloodstream, and he stumbles, hoping to everything above he doesn’t fall on his ass in front of everyone.

As if hearing his prayers, someone steadies him, a warm hand on either side of his waist, and Wonwoo turns around with a grateful smile before it falters. Soonyoung grins back at him, reaching a hand out to pull at a lock his hair.

“Got too much into the schnapps, huh? Jeonghan-hyung outdid himself this time with his mixes,” Soonyoung says, pulling Wonwoo to sit down next to him.

“Uhm, no, I just was, uh.” Wonwoo stumbles again, but goes down when Soonyoung smiles up at him, resigning himself to his fate. “Sure. Great.”

Soonyoung beams and folds his legs into a pretzel, drumming his fingers along his crossed legs. “This seems like it’ll be a fun game, right? Knowing hyung, he’ll probably make us suffer one way or another.”

“I don’t expect to come out of this game with my dignity intact, that’s for sure,” Wonwoo mutters darkly, eying the gentle arc of Jeonghan’s swinging mistletoe. Soonyoung giggles and collapses into his side, something that’s he’s done a dozen times before, but Wonwoo can’t help but feel that same flush on his cheeks and swoop of his stomach every time. He makes to curl an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders, but stops at the last minute.

“Where’s, uh, Han-sung-ssi?” he asks, edgy, and looks around the room as surreptitiously as he can.

“He’s around,” Soonyoung says, waving a hand around. “I think he went off to the bathroom or something?” His cheeks are apple red, the bright flush spread over his face from maybe the alcohol or the excitement, and Wonwoo feels it like the warring clash of endearment and resentment in his gut.

He wants to tuck the strands of hair over Soonyoung’s hot-red ears. He wants to pull Soonyoung to his side and hide him away until Han-sung gives up and doesn’t come back. He wants Soonyoung to sit on the other side of the world so he doesn’t feel like he’ll throw up at any minute.

“He seems nice,” Wonwoo says finally, defeated and small. Soonyoung gives him a considering look, a sudden soberness belying his flushed face, and Wonwoo tries not fidget under the stare.

“I guess so,” Soonyoung allows.

Wonwoo scoffs. “‘Guess so’? You’ve been all over him the whole night—that’s not _just_ a ‘guess so.’”

“You jealous?”

Wonwoo’s heart stutters to a stop.

Soonyoung watches him, mouth set, but he doesn’t say anything else, just gives Wonwoo a small smile for an unspoken truce as Jeonghan swings into attention. Literally.

‘Alright brats, this is how we’re gonna play this game. This here,” Jeonghan gestures with a cheeky grin to his stick, “is what we call the kiss-o-meter.”

The crowd jeers and boos, Wonwoo and Soonyoung with them, and Jeonghan laughs, bringing his arms up in a mock-chopping motion. “Fine, it’s mistletoe on a stick. I think we all know what that is from the week-long Christmas-themed romantic comedies marathon our dear Junnie here decided to treat us with, so I won’t beat that dead horse anymore. The game is simple: close your eyes, I walk around with my stick, and if you feel it hit you in the face: congratulations! You have to kiss the person next to you.”

“What part of this is actually fun for us?” Wonwoo deadpans.

“Hm, when it’s not you on the spotlight,” Jeonghan chirps. That bastard has the audacity to throw him a wink, too; there’s no chance in hell he’s not going to stop on Wonwoo. His friends are all _dead_ to him.

Despite his casual words, Jeonghan is very considerate about his victims; knowing that the majority of them are shy underclassmen under his charge, Jeonghan chooses each stopping point with care and a joking humor. He gets four couples to kiss, to the loud jeering of everyone else, and two would-be pairs who remain shy with each other after the kiss. If it weren’t for the unflinching certainty that he’ll be the next victim, Wonwoo would almost find this cute.

Even Chan gets caught up in the game, chosen after a sweet girl with an angled bob goes, and he points to himself with naive incredulity before the girl next to him, a grinning sophomore Wonwoo’s seen around on campus, pulls him in for a loud exaggerated kiss. Wonwoo cheers with the rest of them, laughing as Chan waves his arms around, being kissed within an inch of his life, and he shares that humor with Soonyoung, falling back on him and giggling into his shoulders. Soonyoung just laughs on top of him, wrapping arms around his shaking frame, gasping that someone’d better have gotten this on camera for them later.

“Ah, yes, thank you, Hyemi-ssi, for so graciously giving our Channie here his first kiss,” Jeonghan says, patting a blushing Chan on the head. Hyemi nods with noted pleasure, and Jeonghan spins around to look at the rest of them. “Close those eyes, folks! Next round!”

It goes on for another few rounds like this, and Wonwoo lets himself be lured into a false sense of security, too warm in Soonyoung’s continued embrace. He closes his eyes each time, waiting for that tell-tale whump of plastic against his face, but only feels the hot puff of Soonyoung’s breath against his cheeks each round. It goes, and it goes, and Wonwoo pretends as it goes that _he’s_ the one on the date with Soonyoung here— _he’s_ been the boyfriend all along, with Soonyoung sitting on _his_ lap and giggling into _his_ chest with red-faced glee.

He wants it so much. Fuck.

The mistletoe sprig comes as an actual surprise, a true smack across his face, and Wonwoo rears back with a jump. He blinks open accusing eyes, and Jeonghan stares down over him and Soonyoung with a serene smile.

“You’re next, Wonwoo-ah,” Jeonghan croons.

Wonwoo pictures mowing him down in one of his shooter games, but Soonyoung just grips him tighter, turning Wonwoo’s head to face him instead. He blinks, the space between their faces suddenly too small to breathe comfortably in, and Wonwoo wants his heart to make up its mind. It pounds in his ribcage, like a fist banging against doors that won’t open, and Wonwoo thinks it’s time to make a decision.

“Okay?” Soonyoung asks, trying a smile. Wonwoo can feel him shaking, the tremble of his hands as they fist into his sleeves for support. He nods blindly, and leans in, whispering back his own ‘okay’ into Soonyoung’s soft lips.

The kiss is short, but it feels like forever to him. Soonyoung tastes like mint and schnapps, the bitter sweetness of flavored alcohol cutting through, and Wonwoo flicks his tongue against his lips, hoping to get a stronger taste. Soonyoung opens his mouth readily, a small noise squeaking out, but Wonwoo licks it into his own mouth, offering a home. It's heady, everything spinning, and it’s hard to say if it’s because of the beer or because it’s Soonyoung he’s kissing finally, finally—

Soonyoung pulls away first, and Wonwoo is left, startled out of a dream. He blinks, owlish and disoriented, but Soonyoung only smiles wobbly at him and turns away, ignoring him for the rest of the game.

Right.

Fucking Western gags.

The bump of someone against him, jostling his elbows, snaps Wonwoo out of his daze, and he pulls himself up, making a beeline for the nearest source of alcohol. He doesn’t look back, even when he feels the burning sensation of a hard-eyed stare on his back. The loud cheers of the continued game rolls around in his stomach, but it’s the clench of his throat Wonwoo feels most when he turns back and sees Han-sung in his spot, cradling Soonyoung in his arms.

His mouth tastes extra bitter as he watches Soonyoung this time happily kissing his real boyfriend, and grabs for an unopened bottle of beer. Christmas parties can go suck his dick. The sound of Soonyoung’s laugh, real and throaty, makes him grip his bottle tighter.

Whatever.

(Soonyoung’s breakup a month later is not at all gratifying, but Wonwoo sends a thoughtful nod to the skies anyway when he takes Soonyoung out for sympathy juk. They don’t talk about their own kiss at all, and Wonwoo is thankful for that. He thinks.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got lazy abt the kisses ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ also everything is like expanding further than my original 5k vision what the heck!!!!!!!


	4. iii. enjoyment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how much do you have to push before you fall?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i call it the 'acire doesn't wanna write porn anymore' chapter

Soonyoung pulls him into a street corner, shushing Wonwoo with giggles as Wonwoo stumbles his jelly legs down the sidewalk. Their friends carry on without them, unaware, but Wonwoo holds his breath anyway, peering over the side of a chicken shop to watch them walk away. He waits a beat and then turns back with a grin, fumbling with unresponsive fingers until his index finger and thumb form an ‘o’.

“Oh my god you fucking nerd,” Soonyoung cackles, and Wonwoo would protest if Soonyoung didn’t immediately drag him into an open-mouthed kiss, still laughing.

Wonwoo is floating, intense and _happy_ , and the feeling doesn’t go away with each kiss that Soonyoung gives and takes, affectionate and playful. It inflates in his chest, like a balloon that won’t stop growing, and Wonwoo wonders if he should be worried about how breathless Soonyoung makes him feel, how easy it is to feel that thrill of his touch on skin and the infectious zing of his smile.

They shuffle until Wonwoo’s the one pressed up against the cement wall, back uncomfortably digging into bits of stone, but Soonyoung’s hands run over him relentless, and there are far more important things to be thinking about, like the slick of his mouth and the sweetness from Soonyoung’s last three Cosmopolitans. Wonwoo sucks on his tongue, arms wrapped around Soonyoung’s shoulders so he can’t move away too far, and Soonyoung just pushes and pushes until they’re flush against each other.

“We’re gonna lose them if we stay here too long,” Wonwoo says between kisses, plucking soft moans from Soonyoung like soft ripe sweet fruit.

“Then I’ll make it quick, hm?” Soonyoung promises.

“Make what— _oh my god_ ,” Wonwoo stutters as Soonyoung urges them further down the street into the shadows, away from the spray of the overhead streetlight, and summarily drops down to his knees. “Soonyoung, are you—wait, Soonyoung-ah, please—”

Soonyoung nuzzles him with great pleasure, a smug smile on his swollen lips as he grazes his plump cheek against Wonwoo’s jean-clad cock, half hard and growing by the second. “I won’t do anything you don’t like, I promise.”

Wonwoo likes everything. That’s not difficult.

“We’re not even, I mean, shouldn’t we maybe… wait?” Wonwoo fumbles with his words, slow and slightly panicked. Soonyoung purses his lips.

“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks, even and steady, like he’s not kneeling on concrete breathing over Wonwoo’s dick in the middle of a dark street on a Saturday night.

“I-I’m just.” _I don’t want you to regret doing something. I don’t want this to become awkward. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and think you should’ve done something differently. I want you to come to me when we’re not both drunk._ Wonwoo swallows his words and looks down, heart thumping. “Ah, we’re in public, Soon-ah.”

Soonyoung watches him for a beat longer, as if knowing Wonwoo is holding back, but just smirks when nothing else comes out. “Then, you better be quiet for me, hm?”

Wonwoo just nods, speechless, and watches Soonyoung palm his dick, palm warm even through the denim. He whines and bucks into the touch, too drunk to care about seeming eager, and Soonyoung just laughs at him.

“Hush, dummy, can’t have you revealing us before we even start,” Soonyoung chides, but the sting is nonexistent when he’s grinding his palm into Wonwoo’s dick, tickling fingertips over the curve of his ass. Wonwoo makes a face at him, but lets Soonyoung manhandle him further into the dark shadows, breath catching over the slip of Soonyoung’s lashes casting dark over his cheeks in the lighting.

His head spins, great big circles looping figure-eights whenever Wonwoo closes his eyes, and he knocks it back against the wall instead to steady himself, thankful for the building propping him and his jelly legs up. Soonyoung pays it no mind, just unceremoniously unzips Wonwoo’s jeans, popping open the button at the top, and pulls his pants and underwear down in one swoop, bunching them by his thighs. The cold air hitting his dick is startling, and Wonwoo flinches under Soonyoung’s hands.

“Ah, maybe, we should—” Wonwoo garbles his words at the sudden swallow of Soonyoung’s throat around his cock, warm and slick and constricting. He clenches fists and has to uncurl fingers to shove them into his mouth to muffle his keening whine.

Soonyoung looks up at him, mouth plump and red around the head of his dick, eyes sly and mischievous as he watches Wonwoo scramble fruitlessly for control. He sucks, swirling the flat of his tongue around the slit, and Wonwoo’s eyes roll to the back of his head, hips jerking deeper into Soonyoung’s hot mouth. The image of Soonyoung’s hollowing cheeks, lashes fluttering as he takes Wonwoo in deeper, is inescapable; Wonwoo will probably be jerking off to this moment for the next few weeks, if not months, fixated on the sheer enjoyment on Soonyoung’s face.

“Fuck, Soon—oh god—your mouth feels so good,” Wonwoo tries his best to talk, babbling his praises, and Soonyoung just moans for him, bobbing his head up and down his cock, hands tightly gripping Wonwoo’s hips.

Wonwoo claws at the wall, scraping blunt nails painfully against chalky cement, but it’s that or clutching Soonyoung’s head and fucking into his mouth without stop. He bites hard on his lip, hips itching to thrust deeper into Soonyoung’s mouth, and Soonyoung—

Soonyoung stops.

“W-what….” Wonwoo mumbles, looking down, and Soonyoung’s pulled away from his dick, lips shiny red in the haloscent glow and swollen. He wants to push a thumb in that soft mouth, just to see it bleed red against his skin, plump and wet giving easily under pressure. Instead, he just waits for Soonyoung to speak, watching with greedy eyes as Soonyoung dabs his mouth with a sleeve.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that,” Soonyoung says, hoarse and low. Wonwoo’s spine fizzles at the sound, the id part of his brain wanting to hear Soonyoung’s voice get rougher from taking his dick down his throat.

Any response he has dries at the mouth when Soonyoung reaches over and guides his hands gently from the wall and into his hair. Wonwoo blinks rapid, mouth dropping, and Soonyoung giggles from the sight, crinkling his eyes.

“You can fuck my mouth, y’know,” he murmurs, batting coy lashes at Wonwoo, and the shyest smile incongruous with his words playing at his lips. “I won’t break.” He winks; Wonwoo’s heart is shot.

“I like it when you get rough with me.”

Wonwoo’s entire body is _red_. He splutters, cheeks hot and skin buzzing, and Soonyoung just grins and takes him in again, wrapping delicate fingers around the base of his dick to jerk while he mouths down the length. One hand reaches down to play with his balls, tugging and rolling them, and Wonwoo’s brain is just about offline at this point.

His hands twitch, gently grasping soft locks of Soonyoung’s hair, and Soonyoung moans encouragingly, nuzzling his face in. He licks long stripes down Wonwoo’s cock, and Wonwoo’s fingers tighten, pulling lightly. Soonyoung hiccups a soft-pitched gasp, blinking dilated eyes up at him, soft red lips panting, and Wonwoo is—Wonwoo is enamored.

“You’re beautiful, Soonyoung-ah,” he says without thinking, low and reverent, fingers combing through Soonyoung’s hair the way he’s imagined so many times before.

Soonyoung stares at him, mouth open, and cheeks dark, poleaxed beyond words. His soft smudged eyes blink rapidly, and Wonwoo wonders if he shouldn’t be stuffing the words back in his mouth, if there should be a re-do of the last three seconds.

“Wonwoo….” Soonyoung sounds uncertain, voice cracking on the syllables of his name, and Wonwoo squeezes his eyes shut. At the gentle press of fingers against his hip bones, he opens them back up, and Soonyoung catches him, looking up at him with a shyness unheard of.

The fist around his heart clenches, tight and unforgiving, squeezing Wonwoo breathless.

He makes a soft noise, strangled and small, and pulls Soonyoung up, pushing his hands away to bring him into a kiss. Soonyoung goes easily, wrapping his arms around Wonwoo’s bared neck as he does, tiptoeing into the kiss, sliding his tongue easily against Wonwoo’s. He tastes bitter and sticky, precome and the fading sting of vodka and cranberries harsh, but Wonwoo devours him without prejudice, sucking on his tongue greedily. Soonyoung whines softly into Wonwoo’s mouth, and Wonwoo pushes his hands back into Soonyoung’s mushed hair, thumbing him at the nape with light caresses.

They kiss and kiss, and Wonwoo would call it tender for the way Soonyoung _melts_ into his touch, pressing his body fully against Wonwoo’s, clinging to him like he would ache to separate. Wonwoo pulls aways first, dipping his head back in for short repeated brushes of his lips against Soonyoung’s when Soonyoung tightens his arms in protest, keeping Wonwoo in place.

“Not yet,” Soonyoung mumbles, pouting against Wonwoo’s small responding grin. “Shut up, don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing,” Wonwoo assures him, swallowing back the tickling endearment down. He smooths a hand down Soonyoung’s hair, knocking a gentle forehead against his. “I just really wanna put my dick away.”

Soonyoung bursts out a short laugh at that, pulling a hand back to cup his mouth. He pulls away finally, giving Wonwoo space to breathe again, and bites his lips in an effort not to laugh anymore. “And now, the mood’s all gone. Great job, Wonwoo-ssi.”

Wonwoo throws his hands up in mock exasperation. “Well, I’m not the one who left the job half-done, am I?”

“If I recall, you’re the one who stopped me in the first place,” Soonyoung retorts, eyes bright against the dim yellow lights. He gestures to Wonwoo’s open pants, dick still valiantly half-hard. “Do you want me to finish you off?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, blushing hot, and tucks himself back into his pants. He straightens his clothes while Soonyoung just bites down giggles, chewing on his own smile. When he’s done, Soonyoung pats him on the cheek and loops his arms around Wonwoo’s.

“Time to catch up with the rest of our friends, huh?” he says with a grin. Wonwoo scrunches his nose at the thought of having to endure the doubtless jeers they’ll throw at them when they arrive.

“Yeah, I guess,” Wonwoo sighs. Soonyoung snickers, leaning up to kiss him soft on the cheek. Wonwoo turns to him, surprised, hand flying to his face before he can stop it.

“I’ll protect you from our evil hyungdeul, you big baby,” Soonyoung promises, creasing his eyes fondly. “The least I can do for being born earlier than you.”

“ _By a month_ ,” Wonwoo protests, but Soonyoung drags him away, ignoring his words. He looks down at Soonyoung as they walk— Soonyoung, who’s propped his cheek against his shoulder, squished comfortably and cutely— and holds his breath.

His heart staggers.

Wonwoo is in love.

Shit.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me forever 2 get out but its not my fault bc i just historically hate writing spicieness despite.... writing so much...... all the time........
> 
> also if anything sounds ridiculously out of place or delirious uhhhhh pls let me know bc ya gurl cannot stop writing at fucking 2 in the morning when she rly shouldn't be

**Author's Note:**

> (i'm sorry everything's so piecemeal right now!!!! i'm going with the /retch chapter format because it's gonna be easier for me than posting all at once since i just wanna make ur birthday deadline LMFAO ~~which i missed already est wtf BUT AT LEAST THERES STILL CENTRAL N PACIFIC~~ )
> 
> anyway uh yeah im sry why is porn the thing that comes easiest 2 me..................... T_T_T_T pls accept my pitiful late offering ~~also im sry 2 u n karen 4 forgetting 2 sign ur book EEK~~ but uh have some handjobs i g.......
> 
> runs away


End file.
